


A Night on the Tiles

by rubyofkukundu



Category: Original Work
Genre: Clubbing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-23
Updated: 2010-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:32:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyofkukundu/pseuds/rubyofkukundu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhodri doesn't want to go clubbing. His friends have other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night on the Tiles

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 65 minutes for the prompts: Complaints, Lip Gloss and Running Late.
> 
> Originally posted here: <http://petitte-soeur.livejournal.com/97323.html>

"No," says Rhodri adamantly. "No lipstick. Absolutely no."  
  
"Relax," says Rachel, coming at him with tube in hand anyway. "It's not lipstick. It's lip _gloss_."  
  
"I don't care," says Rhodri, "I'm not wearing it. I'm not that sort of guy."  
  
"Oh come on," says Claire, hands on his shoulders and, Rhodri realises with a slight panic, holding him in place. "It's not that bad."  
  
"Exactly," says Rachel. "You were the one complaining to us about wanting to find a man. We're helping you out here. Do you want to look good or not?"  
  
Rhodri sighs. He knows this is a fight he's not going to win, so he reluctantly accepts his fate as Rachel sets to work.  
  
"Those guys will be all over you," says Emma, over her shoulder from the bathroom. "Trust us."  
  
"I don't," Rhodri stands as soon as he's been released, "I don't want anything to do with the sort of guys that hang around in clubs." He smacks his lips together, the lipgloss feeling heavy and sticky and strange. "You're just using me to get into the gay night, aren't you."  
  
"Nonsense," says Rachel. "Of course we're not," she pauses, "Ok, so, yes, maybe we are, a bit. But mostly we're doing it to help you get out and have fun! You've been moping around for too long, you know."  
  
Rhodri throws his arms in the air, defeated, but his complaints are stopped on his tongue when Claire looks at her watch and says, "Oh shit, we're going to miss the bus!"  
  
This is how, after gathering their things together as fast as they can and running to the bus-stop at full-speed, they arrive just in time to watch the bus driving away. For the briefest of seconds, Rhodri thinks that after this failure, they might give up and decide to go back home, but his hope is shattered when Claire pulls her phone out of her bag to call a taxi.  
  
An uncomfortable cab ride, a long queue, and one drink later, and Rhodri finds himself on the dance-floor in some godforsaken club, surrounded by drunk people, loud music and flashing lights. His friends are all dancing but he's... well, he's never felt that comfortable dancing, no matter how much alcohol he's been plied with, so he stands close by and tries not to feel too awkward.  
  
It doesn't work very well.  
  
This sort of place really isn't Rhodri's scene. He knows his friends only mean well, but he'd much rather be somewhere else right now. Anywhere else. He's really not interested in some kind of drunken one-night stand with some guy he's never met before. Not that he'd get an offer anyway, lipgloss or no lipgloss.  
  
Two more drinks and Rhodri's still not enjoying himself. He's disgustingly hot and the smoke from the smoke machines is getting caught in his throat and, ugh, he's had enough.  
  
With the pretence of going to the toilet, he wanders off in search of somewhere where he can just breathe for a second.  
  
As it happens, it doesn't take him long to discover that there's a back door beside one of the bars, which leads out into a little garden. The garden is full of smokers, of course, but it's just nice to be out under the night sky for a while.  
  
He finds an empty spot on a wall and sits down. Why did he ever let himself be persuaded to come to this club? He'd always known it had been a bad idea. He puts his chin in his palm and sighs.  
  
"Hey," says a voice, "are you ok?"  
  
Rhodri looks up to see that the guy sitting next to him is looking quite concerned. "Ah, yes," says Rhodri, "I'm fine."  
  
"Sorry mate," says the guy, "you didn't look too good. I thought you were feeling bad from drinking too much."  
  
"No," says Rhodri, "I'm fine, really." He gives an embarrassed smile. "I was just," he looks at the floor, "I don't really enjoy these kinds of places."  
  
"Tell me about it," says the guy, with enthusiasm. "If only it weren't so loud in there, so you could have an actual conversation." He smiles, "I only came here because it's a friend's birthday."  
  
Rhodri looks at him. "You don't enjoy it either? I was starting to think I was the only one!"  
  
"Nope," says the guy, with a shrug of the shoulder, "You're not. I don't even smoke, but I pretend I do so I can come out here where it's a bit quieter."  
  
Rhodri smiles. "Me too. It's the heat that I had to get away from," he says. "It's so much cooler out here."  
  
"Exactly," says the guy. "And it wouldn't be so bad if I could actually dance without looking like there's a badger biting my ankles or something."  
  
Rhodri laughs at that. "I doubt you're as bad as me," he says. "I try to get away with not dancing at all if I can't help it. I don't know why anyone would want to do it for fun."  
  
The guy smirks at him. "Weirdos, the lot of them," He pauses, then holds out his hand. "I'm Matt, by the way."  
  
Rhodri shakes it. "Rhodri. Nice to meet you."  
  
***  
  
It's a couple of hours later, when they're on the bus home, Rachel and Claire leaning against each other for drunken support, and Emma almost asleep on Rhodri, that Rachel turns to Rhodri and asks, "So, who was that we saw you talking to in the garden then? You were there for a while."  
  
Rhodri folds his arms. "Just someone else who was having a bad time."  
  
"Oh really?" says Rachel, eyebrows raised. "Just someone else who was having a bad time?"  
  
"Yes," says Rhodri, as sternly as he can.  
  
Rachel drops the subject then, and it almost seems like that's the end of it, but two minutes later, Claire turns around to him and asks, "Did you get his number then?"  
  
Well, there's not much that Rhodri can say to that without it being an out-and-out lie, so he settles for the truth instead. "Yes," he admits grudgingly, cheeks burning. And he blushes even brighter when the other occupants of the bus turn to look at them as Claire, Rachel and Emma give out a cheer and smother him in a joyful hug.


End file.
